Waiting for the Wolf
by Vintage Vine
Summary: Valerie remembers many of her childhood memories with the mysterious and concealed boy, Peter. A very long ONE-SHOT.


Valerie settled down on her branch. Today had been quiet...and forlorn. She had been working and grounding all day; the Harvest had arrived, thus bringing a year to pass after the dreadful uprising of the Wolf.

She had been waiting and waiting. Not once acknowledging Henry's second proposal. And she wanted nothing more than to _keep _watching for her beloved.

While up in her ever-growing tree, Valerie welcomed any memories of her and Peter as mere children. She remembered one of the many hunts she endured with the precious boy, and she regretted each one of the sacred killings.

_We ran. _

_Peter had just stolen into the neighbor's barn. I had stood watch by the door, or rather, underneath the wheelbarrow; I was too scared to get caught. _

_Peter shuffled out with blood running down his elbow and cheek. I instantly fled alongside him. _

_"Get off my property, you scoundrel!" Old Man Gallows bellowed. He had reason for his somewhat gory name, and it wasn't the nicest of reasoning. I smiled at Peter, who grinned with pleasure. "Pray the Lord have mercy when I get my hands around your slender little neck, thief!" The old man threw a hatchet in our direction, almost grinding away Peter's ankle. I still ran unnoticed. _

_Peter bent down and grabbed the hatchet. I looked at him funny. _

_"Peter, what did you steal?" I asked as we paused in a shady clearing, out of sight from the old man, and unfortunately, out of breath. _

_He didn't answer at first, only sighed and nodded. The blood was beginning to dry and cake in his wounds, and I humbly ripped a piece of fabric from my purple dress. My hands worked nimbly around his cuts as he only stared at my face, so close to his. The hatchet lay beside our legs, smiling in a crooked manor that only a shiny blade could._

_"I didn't steal anything." Confusion took the place of my worry. No, I still felt both. _

_"Then why did Old Man Gallows call you a thief?"_

_"He assumed such." I hated that. Sometimes, more often than not, Peter would avoid questions with 'sufficient' answers. _

_"Peter, what did you do in there?" I asked yet another question, not exactly expecting an answer. _

_"I left something for his horses." He cast his eyes down to his elbow, which was still bleeding, as well as his cheek. I softly licked my dress fabric and placed it on his face. He winced with a...smile? _

_"What did you-?"_

_"Nothing, Valerie. Come on, we don't have time to hunt anymore today... My wounds can heal later." He stiffly rose to his feet, gently pushing my hands away. _

_I suppose my expression was one of hurt; he turned to me and sighed. "I'm sorry, Valerie, but we must be going now. The village is anxious; Wolf night is tomorrow." _

_I understood, but I didn't want Peter out wandering the woods, as he always did before Wolf night. _

_He left me then, but took me in a bear hug before he ran off laughing, glad to be free of rules and parents. I watched until he was completely out of view, then, much to his later disgust and aggravation, I walked back to Old Man Gallows barn. _

_I assumed the old man had gone back inside his home, for when I opened the barn doors; I found myself alone and secluded. The rafters shook from the force the doors made when they slammed shut. _

_My feet dragged me across the straw covered dirt. My eyes darted curiously from farming tools to Harvest day devices. I laid my hand upon a stack of hay. Then, unwillingly, my eyes roamed to a far corner- the darkest, coldest area in the barn. _

_Unconsciously, I padded over and almost screamed with shock. The rabbit- the very albino hare we had killed moments before, was nestled underneath Peter's wooden, makeshift knife, soaked in its own blood. I cried, wishing his promise wasn't made in vain. He had sworn not to make it suffer, yet he had. _

_I remember going home crying, sobbing. Never once explaining the reason for my salty tears. They wouldn't understand. Only Peter and I knew how to understand each other. And that was enough for me. _

That was eleven years ago. She hoped Peter never knew of her finding out his secret. That was something no one should ever know of; it was too heartbreaking.

"Valerie! Are you up there?" She dreaded the voice that called up to her. _Despised _it with a great portion of her being.

Valerie looked down from her crouched position in the tree with annoyance. "Henry?"

"You must come down now, Valerie! We're going across the river tonight."

Valerie did not want to think of going across. _That was Lucie's death grounds. How dare the village adolescents even consider celebrating over there,_ she thought.

"Go without me." She called down to the man. "I don't want to."

He wasn't going to give up. "Please, Valerie, you haven't been right since the Blood Moon last year."

When that didn't work, he used her heart to break through. "He isn't coming back, Valerie. Please, stop waiting for your Wolf."

She was caught off guard. Fumbling down the mossy branches, she jumped down in front of him, seething. "Leave me be, Henry. I do not wish to entertain any of you with my presence." Crossing her arms, she stood her ground, not budging.

He did as well. "Valerie, you can't waist your life on waiting for someone you hardly know anymore."

"I'm not." She began to walk away, not willing to be the subject of his curiosity anymore.

Before she could make much distance, Henry grabbed for her wrist. "Valerie, please, doesn't make me watch you do this for him."

"Then don't watch." She jerked her wrist back and trudged through the early snow particles. She felt an upheaval of anxiety and pleasure. Anxiety for the choice she had to make: become friends with her former girlfriends again, or disregard her life in the village altogether to watch and wait for her Wolf. Pleasure, for standing her ground against Henry, who, of all people claimed to care for her reasoning of things, claimed to understand her wishes.

"I hope to see you, tonight, Valerie!" He called before walking to his father's smith.

Valerie only smirked as she picked up a palm full of snow. It melted instantly against her bare skin.

Henry placed the steel bar in the water basin. _Why had I said such things to her?_ He wondered. He was supposed to lure her into agreeing to be at the campfire. Perhaps she disliked the idea of celebrating on the grounds of her sister's death.

Whatever the reason, he would try anything in his power to make her happy.

The steel has sizzled and cooled down, thus bringing Henry out of his thoughts.

"When the crows call!" Henry ducked his head through the window that allowed fresh air to thrive.

"The white Wolf bawls." He answered with a deadpan tone. "What do you want, Bernard?" Henry wiped his hands on a piece of ripped attire. He had found it in the woods once. It was purple with red spots. He assumed it was blood, yet he kept it nonetheless.

"Oh, nothing, dear friend. Just came to see how the smith has come along since-"

Henry cut him off. "Don't speak of him."

Bernard smiled halfheartedly. "I know, friend. He was your second idle. You adored your father. Almost as much as your mother."

The young, love-struck blacksmith smiled uncertainly. "Yes, I honored them greatly."

Bernard patted his hands. "Do not give up in life, Henry. It is not finished with you yet."

His friend then walked away, leaving Henry confused and doubtful.

She did not know it, but the creature was watching her with intent. From where she was perched in her makeshift tree house, it stared, hidden in the shadows of the thick trees.

It sat silently with its paws lying beneath its massive muzzle. The monster breathed, anticipating its next move. _How to approach?,_ it thought with uncertainty.

The creature deliberated once more, and, rising on its hind-legs, it retreated without any sound.

She had heard it. The breathing. The rustling of leaves. _Everything_. Valerie _knew_. And she was happy. Of all things to feel- scared, frightened, terrified- she was _happy_. She assumed Peter was back. He was back to take her away, as he had once promised.

Gripping her cloak,-the very wedding gift from her grandmother- Valerie climbed down from her tree house and made for the smithy. Hopefully Henry was still there, anticipating her arrival.

Running past some of the villagers, Valerie made her way to Henry. She hoped he hadn't left for the river, yet.

"Henry!" She called before coming into view of him and his sparks.

The young man was working and gasping hard, all the while beating a hammer against a steel rod. The inferno behind him blazed brightly, slightly blinding Valerie until she covered her forehead with her hands, shielding her delicate eyes.

"Henry!"

He looked up without annoyance, much opposing to his earlier encounter with Bernard.

"Yes, Valerie?" Henry placed the mechanism he was working on down on his wooden table of tools.

"I've decided to join you-the others in the campfire." Valerie nestled a little further in her cloak as she watched Henry's eyes light up a little brighter than the dark shade they'd been moments before.

"Of course, Valerie. Would you like to walk with Roxeanne or Rose? Or me? You wouldn't have to worry while accompanying me." He looked at her with a pleading look. One tinged with longing.

"I'm going alone. Aunt Madeline may be reluctant of my going." Never good at lying, Valerie twirled her hair around her finger and bit her bottom lip.

Silence. Except for the saddening look that crept into Henry's features that said all too much.

Henry sighed. "Alright, Valerie. Would you do something for me, then?" He waited for her verbal response, only gaining a cautious look instead. "Just...promise me you'll know what to defend yourself from?"

Valerie smiled slightly and nodded. Whatever he meant, she would regard it. Supposedly, it didn't matter; Peter would be there. She just knew it.

"Valerie, please think wisely." Henry picked up his mallet once more, and began to beat the glaring steel with his forceful thrusts. _Bang_

"What are you assuming?" She slid her hand down from her corn-silk hair and smoothed over her blouse.

"I have a pretty good guess." _Bang_

"You won't be able to test your theory, Henry." Valerie turned on her heel and stalked off.

She soon found herself somewhere she never dreamed of visiting again. Her grandmother's home.

Easing herself onto the latter, Valerie climbed high into the branches. She hadn't been here since...that dreadful day when the truth became known. She didn't want to reconcile in the basis of her horrid past. It was only her past with Peter she adored. And even that wasn't completely sane.

With nimble fingers, Valerie carefully opened the old, grimy door and shuffled in without the slightest hesitation.

Walking in, she noticed a peculiar scent, one that comes with neglect. She shuttered, knowing she was left; her sister, mother, father, and grandmother were dead. It happened all too fast. Most of which occurred in a blur.

Valerie shuffled into the bedroom, not once looking at the quilt that Grandmother had been making before she was viscously murdered by her own son. Her fingers pulled at the fraying seems and edges. How soft it once felt, how comforting in times of need...

She sighed, remembering her visits with her favorite character. Grandmother...so beautiful even in her age. Valerie felt a tear slide ever so slowly down her cheek. Always quick to deny such foolish acts of weakness, she rubbed her cheeks raw before she let on-even to her humble alone self- that she missed so many peculiar people.

It was too much; Valerie fled from the room, tearing at the fabric of the quilt in her sudden flee. It went unnoticed. She grappled the latter and slid down with too much force. Miraculously, she didn't land on the cold, snowy earthen floor as intended. No, she landed on Roxeanne.

"Oh my- Valerie!" The redhead pushed off Valerie's gangly legs and twisted her body so as to stand up properly.

Slowly taking in the situation, Valerie looked at her friends features. So much had changed about her. The freckles that covered almost every inch of her skin were spontaneously disappearing, becoming mere fading dots on her pasty skin. Her eyes were as brown and tart as ever, always taking in much more than anticipated.

The girls looked at one another and smiled widely. Then, Roxeanne noticed the girl's attire.

"Val, why on this muddy earth are you wearing that?" Disapproval filled her voice with only a little room for shock.

Unsettled, Valerie began to chew her bottom lip once more. "I like it; the warmth is comforting during this season." That was always her reply. Winter, spring, summer, and fall.

Roxeanne only shook her head. "No, that isn't good enough. Why are you wearing it if it was a wedding gift for the...betrothal?" She smoothed out her dress shirt; suddenly remember the awful bribe she proposed the year prior. Shivering, she pulled her own grey cloak tighter around her slim features.

"I like it. Isn't that reason enough?" Bored of the turn of events, Valerie picked up her pace and ran behind a tree. Unbeknownst to Roxeanne, she placed her hand on the snow- which almost immediately melted- and molded it into a ball. With a flick of her wrist, the snowball sailed through the drizzling air and landed in Roxeanne's hair.

Roxeanne didn't have time to gauge the situation until the next ball of crystalline snow was thrown. "Valerie! Stop acting childish!" She threw herself down on the ground and molded one of her own. Picking herself back up, Roxeanne thrust the ball at Valerie, who mockingly dodged it with stealthy ease.

"I'm not acting!" She screamed while clutching her stomach, laughing the hardest she'd ever done.

Roxeanne sighed and smiled. Lacing her arm in Valerie's, the girls walked back to the village center.

"Valerie, what's been keeping you so?"

Not sure how to answer, Valerie decided a lie would suffice. "I've been at Grandmother's...trying to finish her, um, quilt. Sensible reasons."

Unsatisfied, Roxeanne blew out a white huff of air. It chilled the air a moment before they walked on. "How do you propose you do this forever, Val?"

Valerie only smiled crookedly, slightly scaring Roxeanne with her perfect white teeth. "I can manage."

Sensing what the subject really was, Roxeanne strolled on forbidden grounds. "He's not likely to come back, Val. Please, don't do this. You had a good option. With Henry; please, don't waste it."

Valerie sighed. "Henry wasn't an option. He was a...a requirement. I didn't choose him; my mother did. I loathed him. Now, he's a mere friend. A good friend, in fact, a confidant."

Roxeanne smiled. "You always had a thing for speaking what you're thinking. Anyway, we- as in, Prudence, Rose, and I- don't mind your betrothal at all. We just want your happiness to last a lifetime. And we know it's a sure thing with Henry." Flickering her eyes away from Valerie and to her shuffling feet, Roxeanne drew out a shaky breath. "With...Peter...you may not be happy long."

Valerie wrenched her arm free, looked at her dear friend, and seethed. "Peter is the only happiness I've known. Now, be my guest and woo Henry tonight, alright?"

Without another word, the girls linked their arms together again, and made way to the smithy.

To ease her friend's guilt from the prior conversation, Valerie pinched her side playfully, showing she wasn't the least bit angry anymore.

Her friend gasped. "You're not mad?"

"Of course not." Valerie tightened her cloak around her tiny shoulders. The bitter wind was becoming a real hassle.

"Good." The smithy came into view then, and Henry stood out front with black soot saturating his pale, handsome features.

Looking up from his old handkerchief- he claimed it as such- Henry noticed the two women walking towards him. Immediately, he stuffed the cloth in her pocket, so as not to alarm the girls with false assumptions.

"Roxeanne." He nodded with ease. "Valerie..." He spoke with more caution.

"Henry." They said simultaneously.

Henry wiped his face off with a damp rag. "What brings you two to the smithy, now? We'll be leaving for the campfire soon."

"I had to go find Valerie. She was working on her grandmother's unfinished quilt."

Henry wasn't too sure of this. He had other ideas, though he hoped with his heart they weren't true. "Really? You're still working on it after a year of her death?"

Being put on the spot wasn't something Valerie was used to. Fumbling to twist a blonde curl around her finger, she quietly told an all too simple truth. "I'm still... teaching myself how to... sow and stitch..."

Roxeanne let out a soft giggle. "Valerie, weren't you taught how when you..." Leaning down to her ears, Roxeanne whispered. "...first experienced the full moon's change?"

Knowing very well this had nothing to do with wolf, blood rose to Valerie's pale cheeks, causing Henry to blush as well- yes, he had heard it too.

"No, I certainly was not." She crossed her arms in a death grip, intending to let the embarrassment encase her forever.

Henry, sensing the manor of the situation, gladly bade farewell to the girls.

"Henry, you don't have to leave." Valerie placed her hand on his forearm. It was warm, pulsing with heat, actually. She instantly felt the embarrassment leave her.

Henry smiled. "I know, but I'm needed at the loggers'. They're calling for any woodcutters with experience."

Roxeanne piped in. "Alright, Henry. We won't keep you." She tugged on her friend's sleeve and began to walk in the direction of the river.

Valerie ushered her away, wanting to speak with the young blacksmith once more. Roxeanne obliged without hesitation, sensing exactly what was to be said. She walked silently away, only to be greeted by Prudence and Rose.

Valerie jerked her hand away, not realizing how close she had gotten.

"Valerie..." Henry shook his head. "Stop acting as if you're not attracted to my presence. I know you. I've always known you." He leaned a little closer, welcoming the lack of distance between their lips.

Valerie bowed her head before he could make the contact. "Henry, don't." She patted his shoulder lightly and began to turn away.

Before she made much distance, Henry grabbed for her arm. "Wait, Valerie, why can't you see my affection for you?" He paused and struck an idea. "No, you do see, you just prefer to ignore it."

Valerie was speechless. That was exactly what she was doing. "Henry, I-"

"Just be there, Valerie. Please? It'll give me a piece of mind." He turned and walked back into the smithy, but not before Valerie caught a glimpse of what he'd pulled from his pocket: a small, tattered piece of purple fabric. Even from her distanced view point, she could clearly see the red blotched of Peter's blood.

A growl erupted from deep within his chest. She was touching _him_. Even placing a mere _hand _on his _arm _sent uncontrollable chills and urges through his frame.

Averting his eyes, they rested on his massive paws. _How had he gotten this form? Why couldn't she be his? _Not a day had gone that he wasn't thinking these thoughts.

The creature then looked at his reflection in the rippling water of the creek. He watched it shutter and wrinkle as he slashed his paw through the icy water.

He would try to control the impulsive outbursts that came with his newly found form. It has been a year, almost time for another Blood moon. Something that could prevent his visit and something that could allow him to have his love.

Valerie eventually found her friends again, only to leave them once more. After climbing into an old canoe she'd found underneath some shrubbery, she drifted from shore to the campfire. The night had long been set, thus entitling the young men and women to use lanterns and oil lamps. She could clearly make out the faint traces of lights hidden between the crowded leaves.

She drew a shaky breath. Her sister, Lucie, was just about the only thing in her mind, other than Peter, that is.

Rose's dancing figure was the first to be spotted. She skipped all around the giant campfire, dancing flirtatiously with different people.

Prudence was sitting cross-legged and talking with a young man. She seemed utterly entrance with whatever he was saying.

Roxeanne. Valerie didn't see her. She asked around- pulling her hood down further before her face. No one had seen her, let alone knew she'd even come.

She soon found Henry, who was drinking in big gulps and not settling for more than two seconds.

He locked eyes with her, and, to her utter surprise, came walking over with two bottles of...whatever it was.

"Here, Val. Ease the tension." He shoved it into her chest and forced her to wrap her fingers around it.

Disgusted, she refused the alcoholic beverage. "Henry, I don't want this. Please, take to some other unlucky girl."

Her comment made him reel. "Valerie, don't hold back. You can do what you want. Drink what you want." He sipped the last of his own, and, when he realized she wouldn't budge, he took hers and guzzled it as well.

"Be careful, Henry." She turned to go.

"**Valerie**." His voice was behind her ear.

"You _will _keep your distance, Henry." She spat at him.

But the young blacksmith had disappeared into the crowd.

Twirling around, Valerie tried to identify anyone who could've spoken so close. Unfortunately, no one was nearby; she had strayed far enough to became senseless in the dark woods.

The music playing, the fire dancing- it had all become echoes in the black infinity.

Suddenly, she knew who'd spoken. And she indulged herself in a full-out sprint for a secluded, sheltered area. Hopefully, no one would remember her person attending the campfire.

The beast watched silently. It hoped it had enough control now to at least shift back. It was a full moon tonight, and he'd probably need much more control than he'd anticipated.

She had heard him, he made sure. He knew she assumed his arrival. He also knew she was smart enough to devise such a plan.

Come to the campfire, make sure no one noticed it was her, and slowly distance herself from the crowds. He knew she would be reliable. And he loved her even more.

Slowly, he eased himself on his haunches, and stiffly walked to the intended, secluded shelter.

As she glided through the dark greenery, Valerie pulled forth other memories. Some more welcomed than others.

_Peter jumped into the creek without hesitation. I watched, amazed, as he undid his shirt and trousers. Left in only his undergarments, we both blushed, I more so than he. _

_It was a bluff. He was bluffing and I called it. So, in the transition from summer to fall, Peter disowned his clothes and threw them to my left. Climbing the tree that overlooked the deep creek, Peter let go of the branch and splashed heavily into the presumably icy water. _

_As he dove under water, I neatly folded his clothes. His shirt smelled of pine, his pants smelled of earth. _

_He came up gasping for air. I laughed. "Peter, I thought you could swim!" _

_Annoyed, he yelled a retort. "And I thought you could call bluffs!" _

_That did it. I pulled off my over shirt, boots, and socks. He didn't look. I made it clear that I'd rip his throat out of he did. And he was the only one who knew I wouldn't be bluffing then. _

_Slowly, I eased myself into the creek bed. Even in my under-blouse, I was freezing. Peter swam for me. I scampered back onto the dry earth, fearing he would hug me while he was cold and wet. _

_"Valerie, what's wrong?" Worry filled his voice as he came too. _

_"Hmm, let me think." I ran full ahead into the creek, leaving him to stand idly on the sand. _

_His face was the absolute painting of confusion. I dove underwater. Little did I know that he followed soon after. _

_I shivered in the water. And Peter did something miraculous. His arm came forth out of nowhere, pulling me into his arms above the water. _

_"Peter, what are you doing?" I asked in a shaky voice. _

_He tightened his grip slightly. "You're cold, and I'm warm." _

_'It was a hug, nothing more.' I kept repeating in my mind._

_"That doesn't explain our...embrace." Despite my inquiries, I snuggled ever so closer to his seven-year-old chest. It was heavenly smelling. _

_Peter smiled. Then, sadly, he let go. "Let's dry off." His smile turned into a grin. One that I adored all too much. _

_We pulled ourselves from the water, soaking and dripping the cold. I laid myself down on the sandy soil. Peter did the same. _

_With our eyes closed, and both of us lying on the sand with the baking sun above us, Peter slid his hand into mine, lacing our fingers together. _

Valerie sighed. That wasn't the only time they'd gone swimming. She smiled as the other times came surfacing from her well-vaulted memories.

A night owl called. A twig snapped. Valerie's head jerked up at the sounds. She ducked back into her cloak, hiding from the inevitable, even though she wasn't scared by no means.

She slid behind a tree, anticipating her follower. '_It won't be long now.' _She thought, and began to breathe deep, long breaths. Her feet couldn't find the will to stand still.

Shallow breaths- not of Valerie's- began to erupt from the hushing bushes a few feet from Valerie. It was then, that her heart began to speed up.

"Peter?" Her thin voice sounded as excited as a child receiving a new play-toy.

An unexpected voice retorts back from the shrubbery with annoyance. "Peter! Why the dickens are you out here looking for Peter?"

Roxeanne emerged from the bush, holding up her tattered dress remains and fanning her rosy cheeks.

Valerie gasped. "Is this where you've been? Out here by yourself? Are you mad?" She flung her frail arms around her friend who easily shrunk away in them.

But her attitude was still cornered. "Why are _you_ out here looking for _him?_" Crossing her arms, Roxeanne showed she wasn't going to let this go.

Valerie sighed. "I can't tell you."

As Roxeanne opened her mouth in protest, pleading to say more, a ghastly howl erupted the natural night.

Without thinking, Valerie urged her friend away, pushing her back on the trails that lead to the campfire.

Though, to her utter surprise, Roxeanne stopped in her tracks and attacked the girl.

"Valerie, why are you out here? The fire is that way."

"I should ask the same of you." Quirking her eyebrows up, Valerie inquired the same.

"Doesn't matter." Roxeanne lifted her torn skirts and walked stiffly back to the fire and people.

"Narrow-minded, girl of a mid-wife!" Worse curses were drawn from her obedient mouth as she seethed.

Thankfully, the young woman with red hair hadn't heard.

A low, rumbling chuckle came from Valerie's left. Sneaking a sharp breath, she turned and found a tall, dark, and handsome young man standing idly against a tree.

"Peter." She was shushed by his unexpected fingers. How had he suddenly found his way before her, his eyes peering at hers with urgency.

"I'm here, Valerie. See?" Placing a finger on her cheek, it trailed down it with a soft tingling.

"When is the Blood Moon?" She asked.

This question stopped the breath from exiting Peter's thin lips. "No." He spoke with firmness before taking hold of both hands.

"You don't even know what I'm asking." She countered with tease.

"Neither do you." He softly smoothed down her hair.

Valerie smiled, and asked again. "When is the Blood Moon?" Innocence corrupted the real motive behind her inquiry.

Peter sighed. "No, Valerie."

"And why not?"

"Because you are undeserving of this curse."

Hurt. Pain. Rejection. She felt all of these emotions at once, yet still felt love. It was an unusual concoction of love and lust.

"I was the rightful heir to my father's curse. You are the one undeserving of its barriers."

"No." Peter began to pull away. She grasped his callused hands tightly.

"Peter, didn't you come for me?"

Before the answer rolled off his tongue with insistence, Peter hesitated. "Valerie…we…I"

She hushed and cooed him, taking in his towering form. "I know you, Peter. Never once doubted you. Please…don't doubt me."

He sighed at the exclamation. "Valerie, please, it's too painful of a curse. Why in this forsaken world would you want to bear it?"

The persistent girl pushed on. "To be with you…" She slowly removed the hood-she had wanted to savor the moment when she saw his dark features once again. And he did not disappoint.

He smiled, knowing what effect he had on her. Now he had to work on making her see what effect _she_ had _him_.

"Valerie, we've been over this; I can't give you a good life. Please, grasp that."

She had no time to respond, for there was a rustling heading in their general direction.

Peter firmly, yet gently shoved Valerie into a split tree, and hid her with his form.

Henry stumbled out of the shrubbery and called for the girl. "Valerie!"

In the tree, Valerie hesitated_. What if he fights Peter again? What if he didn't pause to introduce his new knife to Peter's flawless cheek? What if? _Following her thoughts came a shaky breath. She would _not_ allow anything happen to her Peter.

"Shh…" Peter whispered. Calm had not yet settles, for Henry was still unaware of Peter's lingering presence.

"Valerie!" He then had enough sense to look up from his stooped position. His eyes locked on the dark figure, realization settling in like a bad stew.

"You… What the- Where is she!" He barreled past Peter- a weak attempt to tackle.

But the returning man merely laughed. "Easy, friend. Seems you still can't hold your drink."

Henry lunged for him again, only to trip and fall in a mound of dry leaves, not yet coated in the crystalline snow. Regaining his balance, he made a face at the 'vermin' and once again struggled to leave a mark on the mysterious Peter.

"I am no friend of yours." He grasped his knees and stumbled into a crouch.

Peter held a hand out, only to be refused with hostile vigor. "Come friend, I'm sure your presence is missed at the fire." He took Henry by the underarm and hauled him to his feet.

Henry was too weak to reject the unexpected help.

Valerie watched with admiration; her Peter was noble, friendly, while still be being very shadowy at the same time.

Before the two men had walked too far, Peter turned for a split second- not enough to catch Henry's attention- and caught Valerie's eyes. "_I'll return shortly." They seemed to say. _Valerie only nodded. She'd waited this long, surely she could wait a minute longer.

Peter soon found a patch of dry dirt to place the semi-conscious Henry. He gruffly placed Henry in front of a tree stump. _Perhaps it would be more comfortable than the logs the others are using around the fire. _He thought humorously.

Turning back to the crowd, and not catching anyone's gaze, Peter dutifully marched back into the woods for his beloved. He hoped she had waited. Upon almost finding the trail, however, a more uncontrollable being gnawed at his core, and he felt his flesh rip into a greater creature.

A growl erupted from his fleece of a chest. _Why now?_ He wondered_. Why couldn't this have waited till he left again?_

Remarkably, Peter found his paws padding through the cold terrain, even though he doubted he could control anything around her. Especially in his form now. Grumbling, Peter realized that love made you do extraordinary things.

Still nestled in her cranny, Valerie waited patiently for her Peter. It wasn't long before she heard something different from what she expected; large thudding footsteps vibrating with each intense step.

"**Valerie…"** Trembling with delight, she knew exactly now who's voice she'd heard earlier at the fire.

Soon enough, her Wolf was standing before her, a look of pleading in his shiny blue eyes. Hmm. She'd never thought Peter had blue eyes. Perhaps it was just another alternating change.

Moving slowly, she removed herself from the scratchy tree bark innards. Once out, Valerie sighed, looking over her new Peter.

"Peter…" She tousled his fur, looking for a sensitive spot. Soon, she brought her hand to scratch his ears. A broad shiver ran up the Wolf's spine as she tickled him. "I didn't know you were ticklish, Peter!"

"**Does it matter?" **They both shared a portion of the same emotion: happiness. What are the odds of being able to hear each other? She laughed with joy until it hurt. Peter had sat down on his hind legs, still towering over her.

"Peter, I can hear you!" She smiled wide as she clutched her stomach and sat at his feet. "Why can I hear you…?"

"**I know."** It sounded like he was smiling too. But it faded soon enough. **"Perhaps we can hear each other because we our linked…" **

"I don't understand."

"**Last winter, after we ended your father…we shared…warmth in the snow. Do you remember?"**

Silence. Valerie stared at his blue eyes with longing. "Yes." Her voice answered with a shallow edge.

But then the burning question stirred inside her, leaving Peter feeling stupid for even coming back in this form.

"Why did you change?" She asked innocently enough.

He did not answer.

"Can't I read your thoughts? Why can't I now?" Valerie inclined her head to the side, trying for a small, pleading act.

He couldn't resist the sad face displayed on her lovely self. **"I wasn't controlling myself. The thought of returning to you- without interruptions, I suppose- brought on an uncontrollable nature." **He hung his head in shame. **"Forgive me, Valerie, for I can't stay long in my ghastly form." **Peter rose from his position and turned to leave.

Before he could take in what happed, Valerie already had him in a death-lock. "Please don't go. I love you, Peter." She nestled her face into the fine fleece of his coat. It wasn't an awkward embrace. Just a loving hug. Peter leaned his muzzle on her shoulder.

"**Please, Valerie, consider the thought of me never returning. I don't know if I could control myself around you."**

"Be quiet, you mutt. I'm trying to convince you!" She squeezed her arms around his neck tighter, and then let them fall to her sides. "Are you convinced?"

Sighing in that growling kind of way, the Wolf laid his head in his paws. Shame. Why couldn't he be strong enough to leave her be? An idea struck him. _The Blood Moon is tomorrow. Perhaps there is a way… _His thoughts vanished as she smoothed over his fur again.

"**Valerie, please, stop a moment. I'm thinking." **He shuffled to his feet once more.

"Where are you going?" Valerie's voice quivered with fear. Realization settled in. "Are you leaving?" She felt the beginning of silent tears as they started to accumulate in her eyes.

Peter, assessing the situation, calmed her down immediately. **"Nothing of the sort."**

He walked stiffly into the deeper parts of the woods, and devised a plan. Until he was sure the young girl couldn't see him in his natural, clothe deprived self, he attempted to switch back to his inner human. He used force- smashing himself against a boulder, not too thought through- he tried plead- sat begging to any higher being up there with his knees on the ground and his hands together- and lastly, he tried will.

Peter willed himself to control his outlandish feelings…behaviors. And miraculously, the will power had worked! He rose with giddy as the long black hair began to fade from his person. Now, he only needed to reach the creek bed. It held his makeshift den where his provisions and clothes were kept.

Minutes later, Peter was once again dressed in his black attire: long, shaping coat, sturdy leather boots, and the usual. He crouched down into the creek water and washed his hands and face.

Drying his clothes on his coat, Peter rose to find his Valerie again. Somehow, he'd acquired the instinct to find and hunt even in his human form. It filled him with glee as he saw her divine, red cloak shielding her from the bitter cold.

"Peter, what took you so long? The others will soon be departing." She whimpered.

He strode toward her with a crooked smile. "Valerie, what do you think I should do? About us?"

Confused, Valerie could only stutter. "I…don't understand…" She leaned into him, smelling him: wood and pine, her two favorite scents. Another, sudden memory swept swiftly before her mind's eye.

_Sitting in our tree house, cocooned, Peter and I were eating bits and pieces of the hare we had just killed. I had caught it in my father's snare, Peter gutted it without mercy. _

"_Peter, why always smell like the woods?" I asked while licking off the remnants of a bone. _

_He answered with a fleshy smile, one filled with too much of the rabbit meat. I cringed and handed him a handkerchief. _

"_I was born in those woods, and I'll die in those woods." _

_I asked what he'd meant. _

"_Why does it matter?" He laughed. _

"_Curiosity, I suppose. Is it wrong to want to know more of my friend?" I picked up another slab of meat. _

"_No, but curiosity kills the cat. Does that suffice?" He wiped his hands on the handkerchief and leaned closer to me. I didn't flinch as he wiped a smudge of the blood from my face. We had roasted the hare across a fire by the creek and brought it back, but supposedly, Peter left some of the meat slabs rare. Blood rare. _

"_No. But I'm guess you're not going to answer anymore." I stood to go down the latter once more, not realizing I had a follower._

"Valerie, wait!" Peter slid down the latter, following my lead.

"_Peter, we have to go home now. It's Wolf night." _

_A depressed look was cast on his boyish features as he obliged. I was sad too. _

Peter's husky voice brought her back to the present. "Valerie, wasn't there a reason you wanted to know when the Blood Moon would occur?" He took her hands and placed them around his neck.

"Yes." The breath had been knocked out of her. _Was he really going to allow her the chance to harbor the curse as well?_ She trembled with anticipation at the thought.

Sensing her thoughts, Peter smiled. "Perhaps it wouldn't be too painful to change you. Are you fond of bites?" Playfully, he took her hand again and pretended to kiss the back of it, while really nibbling on it softly, not once leaving her day-dreaming eyes.

"Peter, when is the Blood Moon?" She asked, her voice hollow with longing.

"It should begin tomorrow, and last four days, much like last year." He picked her up, whisking her away to the creek.

Valerie opened her eyelids to the sight of…Henry. Internally growling, she rose with stiffness. Her surroundings were…different. _Where was Aunt Madeline?_

Henry smiled and ducked his head. "Good morning, Valerie. I trust you slept well?" Taking her hand, she jerked it back.

The smile faded immediately.

"What are you doing here, Henry?" Venom leaked into every word.

"No, what are _you_ doing here? I brought you back from across the river. I found you on the creek bank. Why?"

She sucked in a sharp breath. "That's none of your business, Henry." Swinging her legs over the edge of the cot, Valerie unsteadily grabbed for her lace boots and hood.

Henry was quick to assess the actions. "_Now_ where are you going?"

Valerie opened the door to a blizzard of snow. "Home."

Somehow, she made it to her Grandmother's cottage without Henry's persistent presence. He let her go without so much as a warning. And she went with pleasure.

At her Grandmother's, Valerie climbed the steep latter that lead to the faded wooded door. Once inside, she sought warmth under the old quilt she adored. Snuggling herself in the only bedroom, she watched and waited for any sign of her Peter.

Hours after waiting, Valerie grew a hardy appetite. Remembering all the skills taught to her by Peter, she left the sanctuary of the cabin and began a small hunt. Fiddling with a knife and some 'pliers', she snared and gutted her most recent kill.

Sighing, Valerie shoved aside most of the fowl, and hummed, satisfied.

She climbed back up the latter, and once back inside, found she plucking at another seems on the quilt.

Taking up a needle and velvet thread, Valerie fondled with a few scraps of red cloth. Although teaching herself wasn't in her best favor, she did a remarkable job hours later when her 'project'. The last stitch was sewn, and Valerie held up her doubtful piece.

What was once a mere action of boredom was now an astonishing red cape, fit for a baby. Smiling, Valerie laid it down gently on the quilt.

She looked forlornly out the window, and saw that night had fallen. She jumped up enthusiastically and slid down the latter poles.

"Peter!" The girl ran through the woods blindly, and called her lover's name. Pausing in a clearing, Valerie looked up at the moon. It was blood red_. The Blood Moon. _

Smiling, she undid her cape, and folded it. "Peter…"

"**Yes?"**

Pouting, for he was in his Wolf form, Valerie crouched down to pick and piddle with a leaf. She didn't look up when a great shadow hovered over her tiny figure.

"You will be gentle?" She asked sweetly, as if she were in control of the unpredictable beast.

"**Yes..." **Unsure of himself, Peter slid down to his hind legs, and nuzzled her ear. Laughing, Valerie stood, still shorter than him.

"Peter, please, get on with it." She smoothed over his ears.

Peter brought his blue eyes directly before hers, pleading. **"Is there any way to convince you otherwise?"**

Her smile faded. "No." She closed her eyes and waited. Her hand held palm up, facing the creature. "Bite.", was her only word. Her only command.

Kneeling, Peter bent his head to her wrist. Sinking his teeth ever so slightly, he drew the tiniest amount of blood.

Valerie could only gasp. It didn't hurt, it felt soothing, really.

As soon as he picked up on her intake of breath, Peter released her and back away. Unsatisfied with his avoidance, she glided toward him, ignoring the now burning pain in her wrist. It flared up her am and throughout her body, raging like a water snake.

"**Valerie."**

She jerked her head up to meet his agonized eyes. "Yes, Peter?" A wind picked up, causing Valerie to instantly pull at her cloak, but realizing she took it off. Noticing her dismay, Peter coiled around her slender form, warming her against bitter cold.

She did not fight the urges and impulses to scream. The transformation would be better dealt with in silence.

After a long, excruciating wait, Valerie felt thicker, heavier. The Blood Moon looked inviting, and she lifted her head to it, mesmerized. Peter led her to the frozen creek, where it may still hold a reflection like surface.

She walked to its edge, and peered down. **"Peter…"**

**"I know." **

They stood like that, watching her new form move, the reactions that were very little different from that of her normal self. Peter was pleased; her fleece was red, glimmering, even. It suited her smidge more than her 'wedding gift'.

Upon living temporarily- and confidentially- in her grandmother's home, Valerie felt a movement inside her. A kick. She smiled, and placed Peter's hand on her slowly growing waist.

Sometime or another, she showed him her makeshift cloak. Pleased, he tossed it aside and kissed her cheek, feverishly.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

I wrote this shortly after I finished the Red Riding Book for the 2011 movie. I know, it's a really long one-shot. But I thought it was too short and pirky to be in chapters, no?

Reading is a given, reviews? Anyone? It'd be a nice birthday present, since it's a short eight days away.. )


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